Saving Her Destiny (3 page)

Mom would be upset if she found her quilt so wet.

Mom…

“Maybe I should call her,” Cara mumbled. After all, this was only her second cry. Mom had made such a fuss over the first one—maybe she'd want to be here now.

“I have your bath ready,” the man said.

Cara blinked at him, realizing how weird it was to have an utter stranger—a good-looking stranger, but stranger nonetheless—in her home. “Who are you?”

A bit of a smile passed over his face, at least for a second. “Duncan. I'm with the Fairies In Distress unit.”

“I'm not a fairy,” Cara said.

“Banshees fall under our jurisdiction. And you needed help.”

He guided her down the hall to the bathroom. She stumbled to the toilet, shivering as she sat down.

“Can you manage?” he asked.

She nodded and waited until he walked out.

“Why aren't you cold?” Cara asked him just before he closed the door.

He shrugged. “Magic.”

“Of course,” Cara said, having not thought about that. Of course he would use magic to keep himself warm in the water. Fairies could do that. It was part of that whole fairy gig.

She managed to get her clothing off and climb into the tub.

Chapter Two

Duncan Molar sat at the small table in the kitchen of the little house, addressing the paperwork for this particular rescue.

Banshee—Cara Wallace.

Trapped in a net. Freed. Returned home
.

That was the essence of what he'd done.

Though he didn't bother putting in the report that he'd flown her around for a few minutes before bringing her back. That went against the rules of being in the FID Unit. And if anyone had caught him taking a banshee for a ride, well, that might not go over well.

He'd been in the FID for just over forty years—a newbie by comparison to the others in the unit. Most had started their time in the FID right out of fairy training. Duncan had been trained as a Fairy Godfather before turning to the FID unit. He'd needed a change from granting wishes and helping people find their Happily Ever After.

The FID unit didn't get attached to their charges. In, out, and over.

That was what he wanted. Quick and done. Granting wishes and bringing HEAs? That was very complicated.

Duncan had never gotten the nuance of it right.

He glanced down the hall to where Cara was bathing. He could hear water sloshing around and imagined she'd be getting out soon.

He needed to make sure she was okay, no injuries, and that her hypothermia was subsiding. Just in case, he'd started a pot of water and had Fairy Tea seeping in a cup, ready for her.

He added another line to the report.

Slight hypothermia. Treated.

He heard the whine of a blow dryer and took a sip of his own glass of the Fairy Tea. It wasn't his favorite. Had a bit of an Earl Grey taste to it. He'd never been a big fan of Fairy Tea, but it certainly had good medicinal properties. He preferred coffee, but after being in the water like that, a bit of tea was always better on the metabolism.

The dryer shut off, and Duncan was about to look and see if the girl was coming when she appeared in sweats and fuzzy purple socks, and with her hair bundled in a messy bun.

“Tea? You're the best,” she said, grabbing the cup he'd made for her and took a sip. “Oh wow, this is amazing. What is it?” she asked as she rubbed her foot against the back of her right leg.

And she did it without losing her balance.

Duncan was impressed. “Are you okay?”

She sat down the cup. “What? Oh yeah. I'm better.”

“Why are you scratching your leg?”

She chugged more of the tea. “Cut my leg. Now it's itching like crazy.”

“Let me see,” Duncan said.

She sat down the cup and pulled up her pant leg. “Right… Where'd it go? I can feel it. But it's like, gone.”

“Fairy Tea.” Duncan gestured to the cup and studied her face. Her fingers looked better, her eyes sparkled with amber flecks all around her brown irises, and her hair was as inky black as the water they'd been in.

She grinned.

Duncan felt a slam in his chest—she had a dimple in her left cheek.

A dimple.

That was all it took. Duncan was toast.

He'd always had a thing for dimples. Especially when the owner of said dimple had such a cute, petite charm to her.

Granted, she was just a girl, but she still was adorable. Like a cute little pixie. Not like he could do anything about it, of course. He was a FID, after all.

And she was just a kid.

She sighed, her eyes rolling back like someone who'd just consumed ambrosia. “This Fairy Tea is awesome. Did it make my leg better?”

“It likely helped,” Duncan replied. “It has healing properties.”

She took another sip. Or rather, a chug of it. “I've never had it before. It's so warm, and already I feel amazing. Why do you fairies keep all the good stuff? If we banshees could get a hold of this on a regular basis, it would make letting out those screams not nearly so taxing. Is there a shop or online catalog or something where I can order this? I think Mom would love it too. Maybe even Dad. He's a banshee, so could he have it? I bet it would make him feel great. He gets cranky after he releases a scream. And my sister, when she lets out her screams. Though she doesn't have to do it all that often. She's goes through The Portal for hers, and, you know, that thing practically revitalizes her when she comes out. Or maybe that's because she doesn't have to swim underwater like I do, and that's taxing, with all I have to go through and—”

“Son of a Hell Hound, stop.” Duncan held up his hand, her cute pixie charm wearing off. “I think you might be done with the Fairy Tea.”

“But…but…”

He pulled the cup away from her.

She reached for the cup. “I need that.”

“Really, no, I don't think so. You seem to be fine now.” Duncan's head swam at her verbal diarrhea. “I guess this is why you don't have Fairy Tea here. It's obviously too strong for you.”

“It is not, I'm just fine. I don't know why you think I wouldn't be able to handle it, it's perfectly all right. I feel great. In fact, I feel better than I usually do, especially since I've been all bloated all week, because my period is coming—”

“Stop! I can't know that!” Duncan stood, backing away from the table.

She tipped her head to the side. “You're what, a hundred years old? Like you've never heard a girl talk about her period before. I mean it's perfectly normal part of life and all and—”

“No. Stop. I don't want to. And I'm two hundred and twelve, thank you very much.”

“Huh,” she said, looking him over. “Well, whatever, you're old. You should have experience with that stuff. I mean, my dad doesn't get all wiggy about it, but he lives with three girls, so maybe you just need some female perspective. Live with a gal for a while—” She reached across the table, trying to snag the tea back.

“Oh no you don't.” Duncan waved his wand and the cup disappeared.

“No fair.” She crossed her arms.

Then the front door opened, and in came a brunette—while the hair color wasn't the same, the woman was otherwise the spitting image of Cara. When she saw Duncan, she immediately charged across the house.

“What's wrong? Why are you here?”

Cara let out a sigh. “It's fine, Mom. I had a cry. He had to help me a little because Norton's an arse, and he led me right into a net, and I got stuck. This guy—”

“Duncan.” He held out his hand to shake with Cara's mother, and made a mental note to go back home and check out who this Norton fellow was and why he'd let her get caught in a net.

Didn't exactly sound like a great friend.

“Duncan—yeah, whatever. Anyway, he helped me out of the net and brought me home. I took a bath and stuff.”

“Wait, you had a cry and Norton stuck you in a net?” Her mother raised her hands, like she could will the girl to slow down a bit.

“That was after,
gah
. Don't you even listen to me?” Cara turned and stormed out of the kitchen to the rear of the house. In a moment, the door slammed.

“I apologize,” Duncan said. “I gave her some Fairy Tea. I didn't think it would affect her so strongly. She was so cold I wanted to make sure she was all right. ”

Her mother sighed. “Don't worry. She's always like that.”

Duncan put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe I should give
you
some extra tea?”

Her mother smirked. “Might not be a bad thing.”

Chapter Three

Five years later

Surf slammed against the jutting rocks just off the shore. Birds squawked in the distance and the tide ebbed and flowed.

“Boys are stupid.” Cara threw a rock into the gurgling water below her stone perch. It was her favorite spot on the island. Not as high as the place where she dove in to do her banshee thing, but high enough that only the slightest mist of water sprayed her as she watched the incoming tide.

Most of the time, the tide soothed her.

She blamed that tiny bit of merrow in her lineage for that.

Though today, it wasn't helping. She still wanted to strangle someone. Preferably a particular boy who was a total butthead.

Because all boys are buttheads…

“Yes. Yes, we are.”

Cara spun around. “Duncan!” She jumped up and crossed the flat boulder in two steps. She practically stumbled into a hug with her favorite fairy, and Duncan laughed as he caught her before doing the friend-pat on her shoulders.

Ever since he'd saved her from the net, Duncan would pop in and see her. Sometimes it was just for a few minutes; sometimes they'd spend most of the day together—if she could sneak away from her mother, anyway.

It wasn't that her mom didn't like Duncan—she thought Duncan was great. He even helped her practice her telepathy. Since she didn't use the ability outside the water, she got rusty. Her mother always wanted her to practice it, because “you just never know when you'll need it.” Her mother's favorite saying.

Yet really, who wanted to practice telepathy with their mother? She sure didn't want her mother poking around in her head.

Duncan was much better about respecting her privacy.

Or maybe it was because Duncan
wasn't
her mother…

Regardless, he was always good about making her practice for a few minutes whenever they got to spend time together. Her mom only worried that Cara was getting too attached to the guy. Which was so not true. Okay, it wasn't like Cara seriously crushed on Duncan.

Okay, not anymore, anyway.

She might have when she was a young teenager, but who wouldn't? He was cute, and he saved her.

But he'd become this friend that she trusted as much as she trusted her family. Well, her immediate family, anyway. There were those other members that she was quite fine without.

“Hey there, Cara. How are you doing?” He met her gaze with those pretty eyes of his.

She shrugged and looked away. And partly wondered if her mother had put Duncan up to talking to her. She hadn't been her usual self since the breakup.

“I'm doing, I guess.” And who wanted to talk to their
mother
about their boyfriend issues?

Not her, anyway. Mothers never understood.

Duncan put his hand on her shoulder. “The breakup still troubling you?”

“Did Mom put you up to this?”

He smirked. “No.” He followed her to the edge of the rock and took a seat. “You sure you're okay?”

She sighed. “Yes and no. I mean, I'm better off without Luke, I know that. And don't bother telling me how you knew he was trouble.”

“Werewolves usually are.”

“Like I haven't heard that a million times.” She kicked her legs as they dangled over the edge.

Duncan stretched his wings. “And you kept track. Good for you.”

She smirked. “Bite me.”

“That's what he liked, being a werewolf. Real men don't bite.”

Cara snorted. “If you know any, keep me in the loop, fairy.”

“You wound me…”

She shook her head and neither said anything for a moment. Just long enough for her to sink back into her grumpy feelings. After all, she was twenty years old. Dating wasn't supposed to be this hard.

“You know, I should have realized. And I think that's the thing that makes me the maddest about him. I should have realized he wasn't all that.”

Duncan nodded. “Rose-colored glasses.”

“I mean, every time I thought we were really moving forward, that we were totally moving into that whole ‘you're my number one, I can tell you everything' direction, I would try to talk to him about the family, you know? Explain about the banshee thing, and how I can't leave the island.”

“You didn't, did you?” Duncan asked.

“No! Every time—and I mean
every time
—he would change the subject before I could get anything out. It was like he knew I was stuck here or something, and didn't want to hear about it. All he wanted to talk about was how he was going to get off this island, go to America or England, and get with a stronger pack, and all that.” While Avalon was home to many mythical beings, many dreamed of getting off the island.

Cara was no different.

“I doubt he was psychic,” Duncan said. “If he was, he'd know how awesome of a gal you are.”

She snorted. “I'm so awesome I'm sitting on a rock, at the beach, talking to a fairy.”

He laughed. “And you're probably in the only place in the world, except the Fairy Realm, where you can say that and it's believable.”

She looked at the sky, trying to make out the shielding around the island. Sometimes, if she looked really hard, she could see a glint of the magic. It reminded her that she really did live in a special place.

Not that she had anything to compare it to, though.

She'd never been anywhere else.

“Do they really not believe in magic out there? Are the humans that dense?”

He sighed. “Whatever part of them that believed in magic has all but gone. Children, of course, still believe, but overall? Humans don't have any idea who walks the world with them.”

“Makes your job harder, I bet,” she said.

“Yes and no.” Duncan stretched. “Sometimes, when I have to change something to protect a fairy, it's easier to make humans believe in something”—he made air quotes—“‘plausible' rather than in magic.”

“You'd think, after all this time, that humans would get a clue.”

“What are you going to do? Reveal the mythical world?”

“I don't know. Maybe if they knew—”

“Humans will lose their minds. They'll want to test and poke and prod and there'd be all these mobs and hangings. Trust me, kiddo, there's plenty of reasons to keep this side of existence secret.”

“Well, aren't you just a bundle of optimism today?”

“Just stating the facts. Humans are better off not knowing. Those of us who protect you work very hard at it.” He shifted and sighed. “Didn't I read that the Magistrates are talking to the Templar Knights again?”

“I heard something about that,” Cara replied. “But according to Mom, it comes up every fifty or sixty years anyway, and nothing ever happens. The Templars want to move their base here, and it gets debated, then the Magistrates shoot them down.” She tossed a pebble into the water. “I don't want them here.”

The Templar Knights, immortal humans, policed mythical activity on Earth. They had bases all over the world to keep an eye on misbehaving mythical creatures—read,
corporeal
. However, anything that fell under the “fairy” or the “magic” heading was out of their jurisdiction. The Fairy Realm controlled that.

At least in theory.

“They're not that bad,” Duncan said. “The Templars.”

“You've had to work with them?”

“Once. They're all right.”

“When did you work with them?” Cara asked.

“Remember when all those fairies were dying seven or eight years ago?” He looked down. “Probably not, you were pretty young then.”

“I sort of remember. Wasn't there a vampire who'd gone nutty over them or something?”

“Yeah. Watching too much TV, thought fairies were extra special. It was a mess.”

“Fun life you got.” She crossed her arms. “What are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be saving some fairy in distress somewhere? I'm sure someone needs your help.”

“Got a day off,” he said, shrugging.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You're skipping out on a date, aren't you?” She knew this guy—he didn't care for blind dates. Yet he seemed to go on more than Cara could count.

“Maybe.”

She laughed. “What's wrong with this one?”

“It has more to do with my sister-in-law Christy than anything.”

“Why?”

“She always tries to set me up with someone. She says she can't have me being the ‘single, roaming bachelor' in the family.” He tossed his dark hair as he spoke, fluffing the longer pieces around his face, and he flapped his green-tinted wings. He was going for dashing, but wound up failing miserably.

“You're a goob,” Cara said with a laugh and punched him in the shoulder. “And you need a haircut.”

“What? You don't like this long, roguish look?” He fluttered again, tossing his head as he did. This time, he waved his wings harder and the current of air gave her a shiver.

“Stop that.”

“Make me.” Duncan grinned and flapped his wings harder.

She reached for the wings, trying to stop them from moving. However, the huge wings, at least as wide as he was tall, were far too strong for her to control.

And he wasn't going to let her, either. He grabbed her waist as she tried to hold on and pulled her toward him.

“No no,” he said. “Don't mess with the wings.”

“Stop fluttering them at me,” she said, staring into his eyes. She put her hands on his chest to push away, but he kept her right there and leaned back. She fell forward and realized she was lying on him.

Literally.

With all their parts pressed together. In all the ways that made all her girly ones very happy.

His wings wrapped around them both like a little cocoon, shielding her from the world. She met his gaze and for a second, she had a thought.

Or was it his? She couldn't be sure, but it was one of those thoughts that friends weren't supposed to have about their friends. The ones that talked about boy parts meeting girl parts and all the moaning that went along with it.

“Um…”

He stared at her, his lips parting, and she froze.

He was going to kiss her.

Like really kiss her…

OMG.

What in the world was she thinking? This was Duncan. Her friend.

His hand roamed over her side and slid along her back. The stroke was gentle yet sensual, and it felt, well…

Good.

He moved his head toward her.

Did she get closer to him, or did he close in on her? She wasn't sure. It didn't matter, inside this little cocoon of Duncan's wings, nothing in the world could hurt her. Or touch her that she didn't want to.

Their lips brushed together.

It was soft at first. Delicate. Until more desire burned inside her, and she slid her hands into his terribly overgrown hair. He caressed her neck while deepening the kiss, and she fell into it.

Washed away in the sensation of Duncan, she burned in a way she'd never felt before. Sure, she'd had boyfriends. And she'd kissed plenty of them. But not a single one made her feel like this.

What this was, she wasn't sure, but it was something she'd never had before. Maybe it was because he was a fairy and she was a kind of fairy herself, and they had a special energy together. Maybe it was because she had always dreamed of kissing him, ever since he'd rescued her five years ago.

The more they kissed, the more doubts swirled in her head. Was he doing this because he felt sorry for her? Wanted to make her feel better?

Did she make him feel like he had to kiss her, somehow?

No. She shouldn't be kissing him. This wasn't right.

She broke the kiss and rose up, but the wings didn't budge. “What are you doing?”

“I—” His wings opened and released her, his cheeks turning just a tiny bit pink, and he couldn't meet her gaze.

She crawled off him and he sat up.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I don't know what came over me.”

“It's okay.” She put her hand on his arm, trying to soothe him. “I've never kissed anyone inside wings like that. It was kinda cool.”

He smiled. “No place safer.”

She shifted on the rocks and slid away from him. Not a lot, but just a little bit, and calmed the weird desires inside down. After all, this was Duncan. She wasn't supposed to be attracted to him. Not for her friend. It was too strange.

“Cara—”

“Don't. Look. We kissed. Let's not make a big deal about it, okay?” She tried to sound calm, like it didn't affect her at all—which it totally did—but she didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

For one, this was not the time for her to be bouncing into someone's arms, especially someone she cared so much about, like Duncan.

After all, she was still getting over Luke. She was vulnerable. Not quite together enough to decide to have a fling with anyone.

And what about that? What if they had a fling, and then Duncan was gone? That was a far greater loss than losing Luke.

She'd rather have this be kinda awkward than lose him all together.

Duncan cleared his throat. “Should we practice, since I'm here?”

“I guess. I can at least tell Mom I did something useful while at the beach.” Because she sure as hell wasn't telling her about Duncan and his wing-cocoon kissing.

Holy moly.

She still wasn't sure how she felt about it.

She closed her eyes and felt the initial nudge of Duncan's telepathic thoughts.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,”
she answered. “Lost in moments and all that,” she said aloud. “Let's do this so Mom will be happy.”

He nodded.
“She still giving you grief about me?”

“She just—”

Duncan shushed her.